


Layer Master

by Polaris (Iatk2)



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Bugs & Insects, F/F, F/M, Monsters, Multi, Other, Oviposition, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, Slime, Smut, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iatk2/pseuds/Polaris
Summary: Amelia is a woman in a world of adventurers. She didn't want to be a white knight, failed at being a merchant, and a shopkeeper, and most things really. There's one way out that she can see, become a slayer master. They have all the good perks, lots of travel, cash from the kingdoms, a cushy position where she can order around rich adventurers.There's only one problem, to become a slayer master, you really need to know about the monsters you're assigning.





	Layer Master

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I will be doing this for every slayer monster in the game, yes there will be a lot of kinky monster sex.

There comes a time in the young life of every man and woman, when a certain wanderlust sets it. A feeling of change, a fear of decaying, and a desire to see the world and leave the home you once saw as being the whole wide world, but now is suddenly too small. The challenge of finding unique experiences and new worlds is caked into our being, and no group feels this more than the young. Even in a world as vast and changing as Gilenor, boredom can set in. As the sun climbed high into the sky over the mountain town of Burthorpe, a young woman stumbled upon a plan that would determine her life from here out. 

The crowds of a midmorning rush follow not the rules of man, or gods, but of their stomachs. The first shift of soldiers from the walls started appearing by the stalls, grabbing a quick bite and a few fruits, for the road of course. All except for one stall by the back wall, tucked away with a shade drawn over the front. Behind this shade was a woman, leaning back in her chair enjoying a quick snooze in the sun. The woman gently balanced herself on the back legs of the chair, tipping her farmers hat to block the sun from her skin. Her hands are nested in an unfinished weave on her lap, tucked into the pocket on her apron. The warm rays of the great star caught on her simple outfit, warming the farmer girl as she slept.

Like all good things, the nap was interrupted far too soon for her opinion, as a knock came at the front panel.

“Knock, knock, knock”, a gentle male voice spoke, “I think you’ve slept in again Mels”

The knock was, in a word, startling. In a few more words, the young woman snapped awake and swung her hands around to grab at the exposed handle of a steel mace by her side. Unfortunately, the jute fibers of her unfinished sack had gotten tangled in her fingers and gloves leading to a wild overcorrection on her part. To further compound the eventuous nature of her awakening, the swing and snap of waking up quickly was not aided by the precarious tilt of the chair, sending our dear girl tumbling to the ground, in much the same way that a sack of flour would when dropped from the same height. 

The girl let out a hiss, followed by her expletive of choice, which in this case happened to be “Holy great dollops of Saradomin’s grace, may I be found worthy and pass into his oh so loving hands”. At least, that’s what she would tell you that she said. What she actually said was more along the lines of “Cock!” and a few bars of muttering about how she desperately wished that whoever was knocking away at her stall’s parents had never met.

A groaned “Don’ fuckin wake me up like that! Almost sent me to meet my maker”, was followed by the sound of a rather disgruntled figure pulling herself up to her feet. The shade on the stall was pulled up and the young woman poked her head through. “Keiv? What time is it? I thought you had wall duty until eleventh bell?”

The soldier put on a haughty expression and remarked, in a voice snooty enough to resemble a Faladorian Knight, “Why poor Amelia, you have slept through the morning? Such a disappointment. When I was your age, I was up at the crack of dawn every morning to offer a morning prayer at the chapel-,” 

An interruption from Amelia came quickly, “Okay dad, calm your tits, I’m up now.” The shade is pulled fully up as Amelia looks around into the market square. “What’re the odds that at least one of your friends is still looking for a bite to eat? I think I can whip up a couple quick rabbit sandwiches to sell, and I really gotta make some cash if I’m going to pay my tab off for my room.”

Kiev looks around, raising a quick hand to block out the light as he peers off towards white wolf mountain. “Hmmmm, looks like I might be all you’ve got. With that said,” A coinpurse gets pulled from his pocket, “Two please, extra rabbit if you have it” 

A few coins change hands, and the sandwich is quickly prepared. Kiev takes one of them from Amelia and dramatically bemoans, “Oh no! I seem to have forgotten my second sandwich at the stall, it’s quite clear that it can’t be sold again but it will go to waste! Damn the God for making me forget my lunch!”

“Shut up,” Amelia mutters as she snatches the second sandwich, taking a bite out of it, “you just want to get back in my pants”

“Can’t I just help out a good friend a bit?” Kiev asks with a worried tilt of the head, “You’re trying to make it out here away from your folks, but you’re not exactly cut out for shopkeeping”

“Oh? Just why do you say that, Huh?” The hilt of a mace appears over the edge of the stall, gripped in her hand.

“Well, aside from the threat against an armed guard, and sleeping in late, and selling pretty basic food that’s, if I’m tasting this right, a little burnt,” Kiev picks away something in the sandwich and flicks it away, “You just don’t seem happy.”

Amelia, for a second, looks like she is about to smack her friend upside the head with a mace, you know, as friends do, but as she’s lifting it off the table, she gets a strange look on her face. Kiev would describe it as her plotting face, Amelia’s father would describe it as her blasphemy face, and Amelia? Well, she’d describe it as he great idea face.

“Do you know what I heard from over near the challenge mistress? I heard that those adventuring types that come through make thousands of gold, even tens of thousands every single day. They make so much gold that they just throw it away in making high end magic shit and equipment, and then they just break it down for parts to make more crap to flaunt in our faces!”

“Yeah,” Kiev interjects, “They also die so often that they can just pay death gold to bring them back, do you know what happens if we get axed? Oblivion. Our souls go somewhere and we’re gone, and then another one of us gets brought out to take the line.”

Amelia looks, if possible, even more excited. 

“But! I’ve heard about these new types of adventurers, call themselves hardcore ironpeople. They just die once and that’s it. Kapoof. Some sort of deal with the gods to keep the balance or something, I don’t know the details, the guy was acting pretty nutty when he was going on about it, all looking like a druid and grinding up herbs.

I don’t mean that I’m going to go out fighting demons and devils, I found out that there’s a bunch of us Non-Crazy-Deathless-Adventurers who can just stand around and contract out heroes to kill monsters for them! All they have to do is be halfway competent fighters, and I can send heroes out to claim bounties for me without putting myself in danger! That Spira girl down in Taverly told me that all she needs to do is to ask the kingdoms what needs thinning, and she gets paid to keep the numbers down through any way possible!”

Another interjection, “Yeah, but you have to be trained to kill those things, you need special experience in killing monsters”

“But that’s just it!” A crescendo to this rant, “All you need to do is study them up close, usually you do that through combat, but all I need to do is be really sneaky! You don’t see monsters attacking the kittens that the nice lady out in Varrock provides, because they’re just not a threat to them! I can go explore and take notes in my journal, and it’ll be enough to maybe get me a spot as a really low level slayer master!”

A horn calls, signalling an end to the lunch for the soldiers of the Burthrope guard. Kiev quickly rolls up the last bit of his sandwich and stuffs it into his mouth, spitting out bread chunks and words that could probably be translated as “Please don’t do it”, but that, with the proper interpretation and maybe a hearing issue could be decoded as “Oh that’s a great idea Amelia, you totally should go do that”

Fortunately for our Heroine, Amelia is really bad at hearing things.


End file.
